


Harry Potter and the Other Three Houses

by Lyn_Laine



Series: A Matter of Time [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry, Bisexual Harry Potter, F/M, Hufflepuff Harry, Hufflepuff Harry Potter, M/M, Ravenclaw Harry, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Slytherin Harry, Slytherin Harry Potter, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort, Young Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 14:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12583520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyn_Laine/pseuds/Lyn_Laine
Summary: In three different timelines, Harry is Sorted into the other three houses besides Gryffindor.  How much do nurture and house teachings matter in changing nature?  Meanwhile, other forces are at work in Hogwarts and three Slytherin boys exist in Harry’s time period who made all the wrong choices, not one…Warning: Author updates so frequently that stats are not always indicative.This is part of a series, but previous reading is not needed to understand this story.





	1. Ravenclaw 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, my massive Harry Potter fic covering three separate timelines. I wanted to see how much would change about canon Harry if canon Harry were put in any of the other three houses besides Gryffindor. Sort of a nurture over nature fic, if you will.
> 
> I will do the houses in rotating turns, so next up is Slytherin 1 and then Hufflepuff 1. Then Ravenclaw 2, Slytherin 2, Hufflepuff 2, etc. All chapters will be labeled in the great list at the top of the page, so if you want to read solely a certain house or even solely a certain end pairing, eventually you can. Each Harry will have a different end pairing, so check the tags.
> 
> This is an AU (Alternate Universe) but will also eventually be slash (Male/Male), so if you don't like, don't read.
> 
> Please keep in mind that I will be including house bias in this story. What I write does not necessarily reflect my views.
> 
> Happy Halloween everybody! What a lucky day to start a Harry Potter fic on!

“Potter, Harry!”

Harry stepped forward from the line of first years and in front of the Great Hall for his Sorting. Whispers had suddenly broken out all over the Hall and people were actually standing, craning, to get a better look at him. The name Harry Potter carried recognition everywhere, it seemed.

Harry sat down on the stool and the Hat slipped right down over his eyes, blessedly blocking out the sight and sound of hundreds of people staring at him. He was less nauseous from nerves that way. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the Hat.

He waited.

For a while there was silence, and he wasn’t sure whether or not that was normal. But finally, the Hat’s voice began to speak in his ear, so only he could hear. 

“Well, well, well,” it said, “that is interesting… A matter of time…”

“What do you mean?” Harry thought at the Hat.

“Oh, nothing. I’ve just figured out something I don’t think anybody else has. But why not? I’ll play along and up the ante.”

There was silence as Harry tried to make sense of just what on earth this meant. Were all the Sortings this incoherent and riddle-like?

“Sorry, I was consorting with the others,” the Hat said after a moment. 

“The others?” Harry thought, but the Hat didn’t answer.

“Let’s see how adaptable you are, Mr Potter, indeed how adaptable anyone is. This will be an interesting little experiment. For you, RAVENCLAW!”

Harry relaxed. The Sorting Hat had been totally incomprehensible, but he’d been Sorted into a house and that was what was important. More than that, he hadn’t been Sorted into Slytherin or even Hufflepuff. Ron and Hermione had said themselves that Ravenclaw wasn’t so bad, and Hagrid didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

The Hat was lifted off his head and he was so relieved he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. He walked shakily toward the Ravenclaw table, second from the left looking from the front of the Hall, and several Ravenclaws actually stood up to shake hands with him as he joined him. He sat amidst the big group of the other Ravenclaw first years, their Prefect sitting nearby.

He could see the High Table properly now. Hagrid at the end gave him a thumbs up and grinned. Professor Dumbledore sat in a big gold chair in the table center. Professor Quirrell was there, too, looking very absurd in a large purple turban.

Only a few people were left to be Sorted. Among them were Tom Riddle and Severus Snape. Both went immediately to, “SLYTHERIN!” They walked smirking to their new gang consisting of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle over at the Slytherin table.

Finally it was Ron’s turn. Harry wasn’t sure what to hope for. On one hand, he wanted Ron to be with him; on the other hand, Ron wanted to be a Gryffindor. But he didn’t have long to worry. The Hat immediately shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” Ron went with relief over to sit with his brothers, Hermione, and Neville at the Gryffindor table. Harry watched from a distance. He didn’t know anyone in Ravenclaw. 

But he supposed he would meet people. Professor McGonagall had said he would take classes with his house, sleep in his house dormitory, and spend free time in his house common room. And he supposed he could still be friends with Ron and other people at the Gryffindor table.

After Blaise Zabini was made a Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the stool and the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his gold plate, just now realizing how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties from the Hogwarts Express with Ron seemed ages ago. 

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the whole Hall, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words, and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

“Thank you!” 

He sat down. The entire Hall clapped and cheered. Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. He wanted to ask if Dumbledore was a bit mad, but he was a bit shy as he didn’t know anyone in Ravenclaw.

Then he looked down and his mouth fell open. The dishes in front of them were suddenly piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

“The peppermints are after-dinner mints,” said the Indian girl with the long black braid beside him helpfully. 

“Oh!” Harry now felt rather embarrassed; that seemed obvious. “Thanks. That makes sense.” He put a single mint on the side of his plate for later.

The Indian girl gave a small smile, seeming rather amused.

“New Ravenclaws!” A tall, buff, muscular teenage brunette boy, well put together and their Prefect, was smiling around at them. “The Gryffindors never do this, they find it ridiculous, but the house Prefects are actually supposed to orchestrate this first opening feast with the first years. We have a set way we do this. First, I’m going to pass around these sheets. Each sheet is full of a bunch of questions and answers. The answers provided are not the only answers, but they are the only Ravenclaw answers. It’s not a test, you don’t have to do anything, but first thing we acquaint you with some of the traits that technically define Ravenclaws - your new house. Just read through for your own information.”

Curious, Harry took one of the sheets that was being passed around and then passed them on. Still eating their food, the first years took a few minutes to silently read through the sheet. Harry was determined to do well in his new house, so as he filled himself with warm and filling new food, he took the answers to heart.

-

How would you like to be known to history?

Ravenclaw answer: The Wise.

Which of the following would you most hate people to call you?

Ravenclaw answer: Ignorant.

Given the choice, would you rather invent a potion that would guarantee you:

Ravenclaw answer: Wisdom.

After you have died, what would you most like people to do when they hear your name?

Ravenclaw answer: Think with admiration of your achievements.

Once every century, the Flutterby bush produces flowers that adapt their scent to attract the unwary. If it lured you, it would smell of:

Ravenclaw answer: Fresh parchment.

Four boxes are placed before you. Which would you try and open?

Ravenclaw answer: The ornate golden casket, standing on clawed feet, whose inscription warns that both secret knowledge and unbearable temptation lie within.

What kind of instrument most pleases your ear?

Ravenclaw answer: The piano.

Four goblets are placed before you. Which would you choose to drink?

Ravenclaw answer: The foaming, frothing, silvery liquid that sparkles as though containing ground diamonds.

You enter an enchanted garden. What would you be most curious to examine first?

Ravenclaw answer: The silver-leafed tree bearing golden apples.

A troll has gone berserk in the Headmaster’s study at Hogwarts. It is about to smash, crush and tear several irreplaceable items and treasures. In which order would you rescue these objects from the troll’s club, if you could?

Ravenclaw answers:

Cure, book, records.

Book, cure, records.

Book, records, cure.

Which would you rather be:

Ravenclaw answers:

Imitated.

Which of the following do you find most difficult to deal with?

Ravenclaw answers:

Hunger.

Being ignored.

What are you most looking forward to learning at Hogwarts?

Ravenclaw answers:

Every area of magic I can.

Transfiguration (turning one object into another object).

If you could have any power, which would you choose?

Ravenclaw answers:

The power to change your appearance at will.

The power to read minds.

The power to speak to animals.

Which of the following would you most like to study?

Ravenclaw answers:

Ghosts.

Centaurs.

Goblins.

One of your house mates has cheated in a Hogwarts exam using a Self Spelling Quill. Now he has come top of the class in Charms, beating you into second place. Professor Flitwick is suspicious of what happened. He draws you to one side after his lesson and asks whether or not your classmate used a forbidden quill. What do you do?

Ravenclaw answer: Tell Professor Flitwick the truth. If your classmate is prepared to win by cheating, he deserves to be found out. Also, as you are both in the same house, any points he loses will be regained by you, for coming first in his place.

Which road tempts you most?

Ravenclaw answer: The cobbled street lined with ancient buildings.

A Muggle confronts you and says that they are sure you are a witch or wizard. Do you:

Ravenclaw answer: Ask them what makes them think so.

Late at night, walking alone down the street, you hear a peculiar cry that you believe to have a magical source. Do you:

Ravenclaw answer: Withdraw into the shadows to await developments, while mentally reviewing the most appropriate defensive and offensive spells, should trouble occur.

You and two friends need to cross a bridge guarded by a river troll who insists on fighting one of you before he will let all of you pass. Do you:

Ravenclaw answer: Attempt to confuse the troll into letting all three of you pass without fighting.

Which nightmare would frighten you most?

Ravenclaw answer: Standing on top of something very high and realizing suddenly that there are no hand- or foot-holds, nor any barrier to keep you from falling.

Moon or stars?

Ravenclaw answer: Moon.

Forest or river?

Ravenclaw answer: Forest.

Dawn or dusk?

Ravenclaw answer: Dawn.

Black or white?

Ravenclaw answer: White.

Left or right?

Ravenclaw answer: Left.

Heads or tails?

Ravenclaw answer: Heads.

-

That was the end. It made for interesting reading. Harry thought he had a better sense of Ravenclaw now. He could definitely adapt to this. Looked at in this format, all of the answers made a lot of sense to him.

He put down the sheet and ate quietly while he waited for everyone else to finish.

Once everyone had finished, the Prefect beamed. “Now,” he said, “we get to my speech. I know speeches can be boring, but I hope this one isn’t. Because I’m not giving you platitudes or talking about myself or Hogwarts.

“My job is to introduce you to Ravenclaw house. So here we go.

“I’m Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I’m delighted to welcome you to Ravenclaw house. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb. Our house colors are blue and bronze. Our common room is found at the top of Ravenclaw Tower, behind a door with an enchanted knocker. The arched windows set into the walls of our circular common room look down at the school grounds: the lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views.

“Without wishing to boast, this is the house where the cleverest wizards and witches live. Our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, prized learning above all else - and so do we. Unlike the other houses, which all have concealed entrances to their common rooms, we don’t need one. The door to our common room lies at the top of a tall, winding staircase. It has no handle, but an enchanted bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. When you rap on the door, this knocker will ask you a question, and if you can answer it correctly, you are allowed in. This simple barrier has kept out everyone but Ravenclaws for nearly a thousand years.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, both impressed and a little intimidated. What if he couldn’t answer any of the questions?

“Some first-years are scared by having to answer the eagle’s questions, but don’t worry. Ravenclaws learn quickly, and you’ll soon enjoy the challenges the door sets. It’s not unusual to find twenty people standing outside the common room door, all trying to work out the answer to the day’s question together. This is a great way to meet fellow Ravenclaws from other years, and to learn from them - though it is a bit annoying if you’ve forgotten your Quidditch robes and need to get in and out in a hurry. In fact, I’d advise you to triple-check your bag for everything you need before leaving Ravenclaw Tower.”

Harry felt better, a little relieved. That didn’t sound so bad. It even sounded interesting, he thought, keeping an open mind. Ravenclaws prized learning and mental challenges, which could only be good in a school setting. Also, advice noted. And he had just learned that Robert Hilliard was a Quidditch player, which explained the broad shoulders and the muscles. He wasn’t a bad person, but he also came across as somewhat arrogant - harmless arrogant, just a bit full of himself and his intelligence and very proud of his house, Harry decided.

“Another cool thing about Ravenclaw is that our people are the most individual - some might even call them eccentrics. But geniuses are often out of step with ordinary folk, and unlike some other houses we could mention, we think you’ve got the right to wear what you’d like, believe what you want, and say what you feel. We aren’t put off by people who march to a different tune; on the contrary, we value them!”

Harry, who had spent his entire childhood being bullied as “odd,” decided this Ravenclaw open-mindedness was a very good thing. He felt bad for the Gryffindors, who didn’t get all this information. What was silly about preparing first-years for fitting in at their house? Ravenclaw might actually be better in some respects - calling them “not bad” was starting to seem strange.

Just as he was becoming much more pleased by his new house, their plates including his empty mint wrapper suddenly emptied, leaving the plates sparkling clean as before, and a moment later the desserts appeared along Ravenclaw table. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, Robert Hilliard continued.

“Speaking of eccentrics, you’ll like our Head of House, Professor Filius Flitwick.” Robert pointed to a tiny, cheerful little old wizard with a pointed face chatting pleasantly with another professor at the High Table. “People often underestimate him, because he’s really tiny (we think he’s part elf, but we’ve never been rude enough to ask) and he’s got a squeaky voice, but he’s the best and most knowledgeable Charms master alive in the world today. Charms, of course, is changing the properties of any given person or object - without Transfiguring them. It’s a complex art, and he’s the master. He is also a former duellist. His office door is always open to any Ravenclaw with a problem, and if you’re in a real state he’ll get out these delicious little cupcakes he keeps in a tin in his desk drawer and make them do a little dance for you. In fact, it’s worth pretending you’re in a real state just to see them jive.”

Harry smiled. Their Head of House seemed very sweet, and certainly talented.

“Ravenclaw house has an illustrious history. Most of the greatest wizarding inventors and innovators were in our house, including Perpetua Fancourt, the inventor of the lunascope, Laverne de Montmorency, a great pioneer of love potions, and Ignatia Wildsmith, the inventor of Floo powder. Famous Ravenclaw Ministers for Magic include Millicent Bagnold, who was in power on the night a certain someone survived the Dark Lord’s curse -” Here, he smiled at Harry, who was slightly embarrassed as all the other first years turned to stare at him. “- and who defended the wizarding celebrations all over Britain with the words, ‘I assert our inalienable right to party.’ There was also Minister Lorcan McLaird, who was quite a brilliant wizard, but preferred to communicate by puffing smoke out of the end of his wand. Well, I did say we produced eccentrics. In fact, we are also the house that gave the wizarding world Uric the Oddball, who used a jellyfish for a hat. He’s the punchline of a lot of wizarding jokes.”

Harry decided he could forgive a few eccentrics. Open-mindedness did allow for eccentricity. Besides, all those inventors and Minister Bagnold sounded awesome.

“As for our relationship with the other three houses: well, you’ve probably heard about the Slytherins. They’re not all bad,” here, Harry was surprised, it was the first time he’d heard that from anyone, “but you’d do well to be on your guard until you know them well. They’ve got a long house tradition of doing whatever it takes to win - so watch out, especially in Quidditch matches and exams.

“Speaking of Quidditch, while Ravenclaws are not under-handed in tactics and strategy, we do have our own way of playing Quidditch. We prefer to use psychology against fellow players. If a girl is playing the Gryffindor team, for example, it’s her job to block the nearest male Gryffindor player. Gryffindor boys are known for being chivalrous even to the point of ridiculousness, and as sexist as this sounds, they usually won’t crash their way past a girl, not even one of the opposing team. It’s psychological tactics like this that we teach our Ravenclaw players. Are we doing anything violent or against the rules? No. But we’re still more likely to win. We’re tricky, just like that sheet says.”

Harry was thoughtful. He decided that actually made a lot of sense.

“Back to other houses. The Gryffindors are okay. If I had a criticism, I’d say Gryffindors tend to be show-offs. They dive recklessly into things and like being looked at while they do it. I think that’s why they don’t do this introduction - they already assume they’re the best. They’re also much less tolerant than we are of people who are different; in fact, they’ve been known to make jokes about Ravenclaws who have developed an interest in levitation, or the possible magical uses of troll bogies, or ovomancy, which (as you probably know) is a method of divination or future-telling using eggs. Gryffindors haven’t got our intellectual curiosity, whereas we’ve got no problem if you want to spend your days and nights cracking eggs in a corner of the common room and writing down your predictions according to the way the yolks fall. In fact, you’ll probably find a few people to help you.”

This was interesting. Showing off sounded like what the Dursleys did - Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia with their status symbols, Dudley with his countless gifts. And around people who were extremely different, Gryffindors sounded almost bullying.

Maybe none of the other houses were perfect - just as none of them, apparently, were universally evil. This Ravenclaw policy could explain why no one seemed to have a serious problem with Ravenclaws, which was (typically) smart on the part of Ravenclaws.

“As for the Hufflepuffs, well, nobody could say they’re not nice people. In fact, they’re some of the nicest people in the school. Let’s say you needn’t worry too much about them when it comes to competition at exam time.”

So not only were Ravenclaws intellectually curious and learning driven, academic grades seemed to be a competition. And this explained a lot about the Hufflepuff rumors for Harry - they were extremely kind and good people, but not incredibly brilliant and talented.

“I think that’s nearly everything. Oh yes, our house ghost is the Grey Lady.” He pointed down the table at a quiet, reserved, beautiful ghost of a tall woman in a long, medieval dress. “The rest of the school thinks she never speaks, but she’ll talk to Ravenclaws. She’s particularly useful if you’re lost, or you’ve mislaid something.”

This was a good thing to know for Harry’s first week, he decided nervously. Not only did his Head of House seem cool, so did his house ghost.

“Finally and once again: well done on becoming a member of the cleverest, quirkiest and most interesting house at Hogwarts. Thank you.”

He relaxed in relief as the first years clapped politely.

“It was a long speech to prepare,” he admitted, smiling.

Harry grinned and clapped along with the rest. Quirky and interesting - that was the wizarding world itself all over, and Ravenclaw was full of famous achievers, so now he definitely felt he was in the best and most representative Hogwarts house. He would have to work hard at his grades and compete to try and keep up. There would be a steep learning curve - especially with the house entrance - but maybe his fellow Ravenclaws could help him.

Speaking of which…

“Now, finally, we go around the first year circle and everyone introduces themselves,” said Robert. “Let’s start with the girls and then go to the boys.”

“I’m Mandy Brocklehurst,” said a matter of fact girl with chestnut curls and cat-eye glasses.

“My name is Sue Li,” said a quiet Chinese girl, nodding hesitantly, with long straight black hair and a heart-shaped pale face a bit like the moon.

“I’m Morag MacDougal,” said a punk-looking young girl with black eyeliner and brown hair, giving a casual, waving little salute.

“Padma Patil,” said the serious Indian girl with coffee skin tinged bronze and a long braid of thick black hair. “My twin sister Parvati is in Gryffindor, which makes sense, as she’s a lot more… feminine and extroverted than me.”

“And my name is Lisa Turpin,” said a shy little girl with curls of blonde hair and a sweet, dimpled face.

“And now the boys,” said Robert. Harry was looking now at his future dormitory mates.

“I’m Terry Boot,” said a tall, serious but friendly, quirky looking boy with bronze hair tinged brown.

“Michael Corner,” said a dark, brooding sort of boy who was hunched over and looked like he didn’t want to be here.

“And I’m Anthony Goldstein!” said the boy beside him, his polar opposite, an Italian Jew with a square-jawed face, a big friendly open smile, and golden curls that were a sharp contrast to his olive complexion.

“I’m Stephen Cornfoot,” said the final boy, a skinny, quiet, nerdy sort of boy, more the type Harry had hesitantly expected before he’d learned more about Ravenclaw.

Then everyone turned to stare curiously at Harry.

“Well… I think you already know who I am.” He smiled sheepishly, looking downward, a little shy. Everyone chuckled. “But for those who don’t… I’m Harry Potter. Yes,” he added in mild exasperation, _“that_ Harry Potter.”

A little bit of laughter.

“Excellent!” said Robert, pleased. “That’s everyone! I will lead you to the Ravenclaw commons and dormitories a bit later, but for now, enjoy the rest of your dessert and the beginning of term announcements.”

Harry finished dessert with a few strawberries as friendly chatter started around him, but for now he was content to stay quiet and starting to feel warm and sleepy. He looked around the Great Hall and then up at the High Table again, people watching. 

Malfoy, Riddle, Snape, and their growing gang of Slytherin boys were intent in conversation beside the ghost of a gaunt, blood-stained man in chains. Ron was talking to Neville, the sandy-haired Irish boy Seamus, and the tall Black boy Dean. The ghost of the medieval knight-looking man in ruff and tights sat near them. Hermione was talking intently to pompous Percy the Prefect. Harry was surprised she wasn’t over here, having memorized all the course books by heart, but perhaps she was too narrow-minded and proper-rule-focused to have made for a Ravenclaw. Padma’s twin Parvati could be seen talking to a pretty, round-faced girl with thick cinnamon-colored curls.

Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher who looked rather like Snape - same aquiline features, pale skin, and mop of greasy black hair. But he was taller, more sweeping, older, more mature, his jawline was different, and he was… different in some other indefinable way. More dark, quiet, and serious.

It happened very suddenly. The dark teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his forehead.

“Are you alright?” said Padma beside him in concern. Everyone at their part of the table had turned to look at him.

“Yeah… flash headache,” said Harry. The pain was gone as quickly as it had come. 

“Nerves, probably. But we can’t have that right before classes start,” said Robert, smiling.

“Here, try this,” said Lisa suddenly. She looked down at the table. “Warm milk with a bit of cinnamon in it!” Suddenly, this appeared. “Drink this.” She handed it to him. “It helps with sore throats and headaches.”

It figured a Ravenclaw would know that concoction.

Harry drank, and he did start to feel better. “Thanks,” he said, smiling. “That does help.” Lisa beamed back, shy but sweet. “Hey… does anyone know who that teacher is talking to Professor Quirrell? Quirrell’s the one in the turban. Teaches Defense.”

“Know Quirrell already?” said Robert curiously. “That’s good. He’s talking to Professor Colburn, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Professor. He was vying for Quirrell’s position, but didn’t get it. Since they’re talking, maybe they’ve buried the hatchet.”

Slytherins were not automatically evil, just a little shady… and Colburn wanted to teach Defense, did teach Potions… none of those things automatically said anything terrible. So what could that have been? The only thing Harry had been looking at besides Colburn was the back of Quirrell’s turban.

Harry watched Colburn for a while, but Colburn didn’t look at him again (though he did keep glancing over at the Slytherin table).

At least nobody minded that he wasn’t speaking much after that. The Ravenclaw first years all seemed to assume he didn’t feel well.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. Harry was now surprised Dumbledore hadn’t been a Ravenclaw, what with all his brilliance and eccentricity. But he only knew why Hermione wasn’t here because he’d talked to her. Maybe he just hadn’t seen enough from Dumbledore yet.

“Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor table, and Harry was not the only Ravenclaw who suddenly had to suppress the urge to roll his.

“I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. 

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry stared. He was not the only one who didn’t laugh - in fact, most people didn’t.

“Is… he serious?” Anthony muttered uncertainly.

“He must be,” said Robert, who sounded puzzled. “It’s odd, because he usually tells us why we’re not allowed to go somewhere. The forest, for example, as I’m sure you know, is a sanctuary full of dangerous magical creatures. But he’s… not giving a reason for this one. I genuinely didn’t even know this announcement was being made.”

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snake-like, into words.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

And the school bellowed:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they’re bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we’ve forgot,_

_Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. It _was_ funny, but it also meant the whole school had to sit and silently watch them sing the last few lines. They seemed in their element, not remotely apologetic. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

The Ravenclaw first years followed Robert through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry’s legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Robert led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, until they all stopped in shock, half moving toward the walls, when they heard a loud shriek.

They flattened themselves against the walls just in time as a little man with a wide mouth and wicked dark eyes came zooming past them, cackling, fleeing on down the castle.

“Peeves,” said Robert, “the school Poltergeist. The Slytherin house ghost, the Bloody Baron, is the only one who can control him. He likes waiting for the first year Gryffindors at the beginning of every school year and then chucking things at them as they head for their house. He would pick on the Hufflepuffs, but he never meets them as their house is underground. Also, I’m half convinced a really short-tempered Gryffindor pissed Peeves off about two hundred years ago. He _loves_ picking on Gryffindors.”

Finally, they reached the Ravenclaw commons. “We’re right across from the library,” said Robert, pointing across the corridor. “See?”

Across the darkened corridor lit by flaming torches and moonlight from high windows was a humongous, gold-lined, magnificent library fit for a castle. Hundreds of thousands of shelves full of massive tomes going right to the high ceiling. Harry noticed a whole section, however, which was roped and chained off.

“What’s that?” he asked suddenly, pointing.

Robert chuckled. “Typical Ravenclaw, wanting knowledge and going right to the most forbidden knowledge of all. That’s the Forbidden Section. Dark magic. Only people with teacher’s notes and the oldest students studying advanced Defense have access.”

They climbed a tight, winding stone staircase set into the other wall, and found the door at the top, with the bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Robert knocked, and a silvery female voice issued from the knocker, which had opened its mouth and suddenly started speaking.

“What belongs to you but others use it more than you do?”

So this was what the riddles were like. As Robert turned politely to the first years to let them figure it out, Harry tried to get his tired brain to work and see it like a puzzle, a challenge. He didn’t feel good at any of this sort of thing, but like with keeping up excellent grades, he had to try, didn’t he?

What belonged to him? No - what belonged to _everyone_ individually? Not much. A body. A mind. People didn’t use those things of his more than he did himself. A soul. Same thing. Not everyone had a family. Not everyone had friends. What could the riddle mean…? What else did he, Harry, have…?

Harry looked up suddenly. “A name,” he said. “It belongs to me, but I don’t speak about myself in the third person!”

“Well reasoned,” said the silvery female voice, and the door swung open of its own accord to allow them inside. Harry walked in with his confidence increased. That hadn’t been so bad. It had even been kind of interesting.

“Good job, Harry,” said Robert as they entered. The other first-years seemed impressed.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled. “I want to do well here. Could we maybe get together and trade study techniques?” He might as well ask now, if he was going to try.

“I could lead a first-year study group over the first few weeks,” said Robert thoughtfully. “Catch you up on how the Ravenclaws keep their top marks. Yes, that’s a good idea…”

Maybe in Gryffindor this would have been seen as overeager, but his fellow Ravenclaws seemed genuinely interested and curious.

They had entered the Ravenclaw common room. It was a wide, circular, airy room with arched windows hung with blue and bronze silks. It had a midnight blue carpet covered with stars, which was reflected in the domed, painted ceiling. Like the Great Hall, Ravenclaw Tower felt like it opened straight on to the heavens. 

During the day, looking out the windows, Harry realized Ravenclaw would have fantastic views not only of the grounds, as Robert had said, but of the surrounding green mountains and the wide, clear sky above. It felt like you were flying. The whole airy room would be filled with light from the windows.

The room was furnished with tables and chairs for study time. But there was other furniture, mostly dark blue and done in an almost eighteenth century elegant French lounge style. The fire was a wood-burning stove with lovely embroidered cushions for sitting and warming one’s feet set around it. The walls were decorated with paintings carrying plaques identifying them as famous inventors. The whole open floor gave a feeling of wonderful space. A spacious nook full of bookshelves was set into one wall, and Harry spied a “book sign out” sheet on the Ravenclaw notice board.

By a door on the other side of the room was a white marble statue of a tall, beautiful woman with a diadem crown on her head of long hair. Harry walked up to her and her small, mysterious smile. “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,” read her diadem.

“Who is this?” Harry asked aloud.

“Our house founder,” said Robert. “Rowena Ravenclaw. She donated her own personal library to her house. Those are the books you can check out.”

They followed Robert through the door beside Rowena Ravenclaw, and up two separate staircases, one for boys and one for girls. Harry thought the dormitories were probably in turrets set off the main tower. Down a corridor, through the door with the plaque labeled “First Years,” they found their beds at last. All of their things had already been brought up and set beside each bed.

The beds consisted of five four posters in the wide, round room with its windows and attached bathroom. The beds were hung and covered with sky-blue silk eiderdowns. 

Too tired to talk much, Harry and the other Ravenclaw boys pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed. The wind whistling softly around the windows relaxed him and lulled him to sleep, keeping him peaceful and calm the entire dark, blissful night long.


	2. Slytherin 1

“Potter, Harry!”

Harry stepped forward from the line of first years and in front of the Great Hall for his Sorting. Whispers had suddenly broken out all over the Hall and people were actually standing, craning, to get a better look at him. The name Harry Potter carried recognition everywhere, it seemed.

Harry sat down on the stool and the Hat slipped right down over his eyes, blessedly blocking out the sight and sound of hundreds of people staring at him. He was less nauseous from nerves that way. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the Hat.

He waited.

For a while there was silence, and he wasn’t sure whether or not that was normal. But finally, the Hat’s voice began to speak in his ear, so only he could hear. 

“Well, well, well,” it said, “that is interesting… A matter of time…”

“What do you mean?” Harry thought at the Hat.

“Oh, nothing. I’ve just figured out something I don’t think anybody else has. But why not? I’ll play along and up the ante.”

There was silence as Harry tried to make sense of just what on earth this meant. Were all the Sortings this incoherent and riddle-like?

“Sorry, I was consorting with the others,” the Hat said after a moment. 

“The others?” Harry thought, but the Hat didn’t answer.

“Let’s see how adaptable you are, Mr Potter, indeed how adaptable anyone is. This will be an interesting little experiment. For you, SLYTHERIN!”

Harry felt cold horror drop and settle in the pit of his stomach. “No, wait, wait, wait, wait,” he thought desperately at the Hat - he didn’t _want_ to be in Slytherin, the house of Malfoy’s gang, the house of the evil - but it was too late. The Hat was jerked off of his head and the Slytherin table was cheering triumphantly and thundering with applause. Slowly, his hands shaking, feeling cold, he stood up and walked reluctantly toward the Slytherin table. He hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet, and the thought didn’t make him feel good the way it might have.

Did this mean, he thought, worried, that he was destined to become a Dark wizard?

The Slytherin table was second from the right looking from the front of the Great Hall. He sat slowly down amidst the other Slytherin first years, near their Prefect, shaking several hands and trying his hardest to be polite and not freak out on his way to his seat. 

“Nice job making the right choice,” Malfoy leaned forward and muttered, smirking.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. Just because I was housed here doesn’t mean I have to like you,” said Harry coldly.

Malfoy flushed and his eyes narrowed. He leaned slowly back in his seat and did not speak to Harry again.

Harry looked up and around. Hagrid was frowning at him from the far end of the High Table, and Harry swallowed, the weight in his stomach sinking even lower. Ron was eyeing him nervously from the line of people still to be Sorted. _It’s still me!_ Harry wanted to shout to them, but he couldn’t, not from here. Aside from being asked to leave Hogwarts altogether, this was his worst nightmare come to pass.

He could see other teachers at the High Table now as well. In the center of the High Table, in a gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell was there, too, looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

Only a few people were left to be Sorted. Among them were Tom Riddle and Severus Snape. Both went immediately to, “SLYTHERIN!” They walked smirking to their new gang consisting of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle near Harry at the Slytherin table. Harry hadn’t thought it was possible to feel any worse or more self conscious about his Sorting, irrationally like all eyes were on him even though he knew that they weren’t, but he did in that moment.

Finally it was Ron’s turn. Harry wasn’t sure what to hope for. On one hand, he wanted Ron to be with him; on the other hand, Ron wanted to be a Gryffindor. Ron hated Slytherin, Harry remembered, feeling awful. But he didn’t have long to ponder this. The Hat immediately shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” Ron went with relief over to sit with his brothers, Hermione, and Neville at the Gryffindor table. Harry watched from a distance. He wished he was there instead of here.

Could he really make friends with Slytherins? If they were all Dark wizards and witches, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. But Professor McGonagall had said he would take classes with his house, sleep in his house dormitory, and spend free time in his house common room. Surely he would start to get along with people? Another, smaller part of him hoped so. And he hoped against hope that he could still be friends with Ron and other people at the Gryffindor table as well.

After Blaise Zabini was made a Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the stool and the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his gold plate, just now realizing how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties from the Hogwarts Express with Ron seemed ages ago. It was a silly thought to have in such a serious moment, but he wished the food was here.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the whole Hall, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words, and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

“Thank you!” 

He sat down. The entire Hall clapped and cheered. Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. He wanted to ask if Dumbledore was a bit mad, but he was a bit nervous to ask anyone in Slytherin.

Then he looked down and his mouth fell open. The dishes in front of them were suddenly piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. His mood had improved slightly. He _was_ still at Hogwarts, and to Hogwarts’ credit, it was all delicious. There was something to be said simply for a place that gave him lots of good food.

“The peppermints are after-dinner mints,” said a pretty blonde girl with green eyes from beside him, smirking and seeming dryly amused.

Harry was cautious at this little moment of seeming friendliness. “... Oh. Thank you,” he said, grabbing a mint and putting it at the edge of his plate.

“Come on, Potter, that’s an easy o -” Malfoy began, scoffing, but the blonde girl to Harry’s surprise immediately pounced.

“Put a sock in it, Malfoy!” she snapped. “He doesn’t deserve to be personally punished for not liking you! No one likes you; you’re annoying!”

A handsome dark-haired Italian boy nearly choked on the food he had just started eating from laughter. A boy with curly brown hair and glasses smirked. Riddle and Snape looked sideways at an indignant Malfoy, rolled their eyes, and continued with their food.

“I’d watch yourself, Greengrass -” Malfoy began furiously.

“Oh, going to get me, are you? Wow, I’m terrified,” said Greengrass sarcastically.

“Malfoy, do you _want_ him to hate it here?” said a plump, heavily jowled girl irritably. “Because I hope you realize that’s all you’re accomplishing by laying into him on his first night in the house. He’s not exactly from a family and friends group full of Slytherins, remember? He’s probably scared shitless enough as it is.”

Harry wasn’t sure he liked ‘scared shitless,’ but appreciated the surprising defense all the same.

“Stop picking on Draco,” said a girl with a pug face childishly.

“It’s not my fault you adore him,” said the plump girl bluntly, not afraid in the slightest. The pug-faced girl, who was much smaller for one thing, blushed and fell silent.

“New Slytherins,” their Prefect inserted herself in smoothly, smirking. She didn’t seem worried about the sarcastic, caustic arguing in the slightest. She had black hair, black eyeliner, and some serious tattoos. 

“Please don’t tell me we’re going to do a peppy Prefect speech and icebreakers,” said Malfoy in contemptuous dread.

“Shut up before I put a Silencing Charm on you,” said the Prefect smoothly without pause.

Harry watched Malfoy’s mouth open and close like a gawping fish in increasing delight. Slytherins could be surprisingly hilarious. This was the best night ever!

“Please ignore him and continue, miss,” said Riddle stiffly. “By executive order I’m taking over our group and Malfoy is shutting up.”

“You’ve got some nerve, Riddle -!”

“By majority rules, then. Shut up,” said Snape, sounding too irritated even to smirk.

“Crabbe and Goyle -!”

“Don’t get a say. They speak in monosyllables.”

Crabbe and Goyle grunted.

“So - are we done faction fighting and having a dong measuring contest?” the Prefect asked sarcastically.

Harry wasn’t sure what Riddle did, but Malfoy cried out in pain like someone had kicked him and fell immediately into a scowling, surly silence. “We’re done,” Riddle confirmed. 

“Okay,” their Prefect began, clapping her hands. “The Gryffindors never do this because they’re idiots, but all the other houses do. Good enough incentive? The house Prefects are actually supposed to orchestrate this first opening feast with the first years. We have a set way we do this. First, I’m going to pass around these sheets. Each sheet is full of a bunch of questions and answers. The answers provided are not the only answers, but they are the only Slytherin answers. It’s not a test, you don’t have to do anything, but first thing we acquaint you with some of the traits that technically define Slytherins - your new house. Just read through for your own information.”

Curious, reluctant, dreading, but also somewhat more hopeful than he had been a few minutes ago, Harry took one of the sheets that was being passed around and then passed them on. Still eating their food, the first years took a few minutes to silently read through the sheet. Harry had to admit to himself, he _did_ want to know more about this house he supposedly belonged in that everyone hated so much - but that seemed somehow different from the inside.

-

How would you like to be known to history?

Slytherin answer: The Great.

Which of the following would you most hate people to call you?

Slytherin answer: Ordinary.

Given the choice, would you rather invent a potion that would guarantee you:

Slytherin answer: Power.

After you have died, what would you most like people to do when they hear your name?

Slytherin answer: I don’t care what people think about me after I’m dead; it’s what they think of me when I’m alive that counts.

Once every century, the Flutterby bush produces flowers that adapt their scent to attract the unwary. If it lured you, it would smell of:

Slytherin answer: The sea.

Four boxes are placed before you. Which would you try and open?

Slytherin answer: The gleaming jet black box with a silver lock and key, marked with a mysterious rune that you know to be the mark of Merlin.

What kind of instrument most pleases your ear?

Slytherin answer: The violin.

Four goblets are placed before you. Which would you choose to drink?

Slytherin answer: The mysterious black liquid that gleams like ink, and gives off fumes that make you see strange visions.

You enter an enchanted garden. What would you be most curious to examine first?

Slytherin answer: The bubbling pool, in the depths of which something luminous is swirling.

A troll has gone berserk in the Headmaster’s study at Hogwarts. It is about to smash, crush and tear several irreplaceable items and treasures. In which order would you rescue these objects from the troll’s club, if you could?

Slytherin answers:

Book, cure, records.

Book, records, cure.

Records, cure, book.

Records, book, cure.

Which would you rather be:

Slytherin answers:

Praised.

Envied.

Feared.

Which of the following do you find most difficult to deal with?

Slytherin answers:

Cold.

Being ignored.

Boredom.

What are you most looking forward to learning at Hogwarts?

Slytherin answers:

Every area of magic I can.

Apparition and Disapparition (being able to materialize and dematerialize at will).

Hexes and jinxes.

If you could have any power, which would you choose?

Slytherin answers:

The power to change the past.

The power to change your appearance at will.

The power to read minds.

Which of the following would you most like to study?

Slytherin answers:

Merpeople.

Vampires. 

Goblins.

One of your house mates has cheated in a Hogwarts exam by using a Self Spelling Quill. Now he has come top of the class in Charms, beating you into second place. Professor Flitwick is suspicious of what happened. He draws you to one side after his lesson and asks you whether or not your classmate used a forbidden quill. What do you do?

Slytherin answer: You would not wait to be asked to tell Professor Flitwick the truth. If you knew that somebody was using a forbidden quill, you would tell the teacher before the exam started.

Which road tempts you most?

Slytherin answer: The narrow, dark, lantern-lit alley.

A Muggle confronts you and says that they are sure you are a witch or wizard. Do you:

Slytherin answer: Agree, and ask whether they’d like a free sample of a jinx.

Late at night, walking alone down the street, you hear a peculiar cry that you believe to have a magical source. Do you:

Slytherin answer: Draw your wand and stand your ground.

You and two friends need to cross a bridge guarded by a river troll who insists on fighting one of you before he will let all of you pass. Do you:

Slytherin answer: Suggest that all three of you should fight (without telling the troll).

Which nightmare would frighten you most?

Slytherin answer: Being forced to speak in such a silly voice that hardly anyone can understand you, and everyone laughs at you.

Moon or stars?

Slytherin answer: Moon.

Forest or river?

Slytherin answer: River.

Dawn or dusk?

Slytherin answer: Dusk.

Black or white?

Slytherin answer: Black.

Left or right?

Slytherin answer: Left.

Heads or tails?

Slytherin answer: Tails.

-

That was the end. It was interesting reading for Harry, who had become thoughtful. None of these answers were overtly evil. 

Slytherins didn’t want to be ordinary, which was not bad in itself, they wanted to be unusual and original. They did like power, but power was neutral until a person did something good or bad with it. They hated boredom and being ignored. And they had many good points: they seemed to have a taste for the darkly romantic and imaginative, for the contrary, for the somewhat dangerous, and instead of being vicious, a Slytherin like Harry seemed to be quite capable of simply being grimly realistic, tricky, quiet and stoical, a bit underhanded, and good at telling a story. They wanted to be admired and looked up to in some way, which fit in with a desire for power either good or bad, and they found an invaluable book and invaluable historical records to be just as if not more important than a powerful cure.

They were complicated, but he could actually get behind a lot of it and none of it was what you’d call evil.

Contemplating this, he put down his paper and ate quietly as he waited for everyone else to finish. 

Once everyone had finished, their Prefect leaned back. “Okay,” she said, “now, as distasteful as this sounds, I get to my speech. This is important, because I’m not talking about myself or Hogwarts or anything like that.

“Instead, my job is to introduce you to Slytherin.” She grinned, her eyes dancing as she looked around at them all. “So here we go.”

Harry leaned forward slightly, interested to hear this. What did Slytherins have to say to defend their house? They ate their dinner as they listened.

“So, without further ado:

“Congratulations! I’m Prefect Gemma Farley, and I’m delighted to welcome you to Slytherin House. Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of creatures. Our house colors are emerald green and silver. Our common room lies behind a concealed entrance down in the dungeons. As you’ll see, its windows look out into the depths of Hogwarts lake. We often see the giant squid swooshing by - and sometimes more interesting creatures. We like to feel that our hangout has the aura of a mysterious, underwater shipwreck.

“Now, there are a few things you should know about Slytherin - and a few things you should forget.

“First, let’s dispel a few myths. You might have heard rumors about Slytherin house - that we’re all into the Dark Arts, and will only talk to you if your great-grandfather was a famous wizard, and rubbish like that. Well, you don’t want to believe everything you hear from competing houses. I’m not denying that we’ve produced our share of Dark wizards, but so have the other three houses - they just don’t like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards, but nowadays you’ll find plenty of people in Slytherin house who have at least one Muggle parent.”

Malfoy looked sick, but almost no one else did and Harry himself was surprised and pleased, thoughtful again. Rumors from competing houses…? That… actually made sense. It made more sense for all the houses to have produced Dark witches and wizards. If it all came from one house, they’d have expelled the house by now. And none of the traits he’d just seen on this paper would be confined to all-wizard families.

It tallied with all the people who had defended him at the beginning of this feast. Harry relaxed. Ron and Hagrid had been mistaken. They were just rumors, that was all. Blatant stereotypes that didn’t fit all of Slytherin house. He _had_ just not liked the looks of Slytherin because of bias - preconceived bias.

Just as he was becoming much more pleased by his new house, their plates including his empty mint wrapper suddenly emptied, leaving the plates sparkling clean as before, and a moment later the desserts appeared along Slytherin table. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, Gemma Farley continued.

“Here’s a little known fact the other three houses don’t bring up much,” Gemma continued, almost with glee, “Merlin was a Slytherin. Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history! He learned all he knew in this very house! Do you want to follow in the footsteps of Merlin? Or would you rather sit at the old desk of that illustrious ex-Hufflepuff, Eglantine Puffett, inventor of the Self-Soaping Dishcloth?”

Harry gave a wry smile. She did have a point, and it tallied with what he knew of Slytherin ambition - and ambition and greatness were not always bad qualities. Leaders like Merlin usually had them. Smirks passed across many other first year Slytherin faces.

“I didn’t think so.

“But that’s enough about what we’re not. Let’s talk about what we are, which is the coolest and edgiest house in the school. We play to win, because we care about the honor and traditions of Slytherins.

“Take our Quidditch strategy, for example. Some people say we fight dirty, underhanded, dishonorably. You know what we say? That Quidditch is a vicious sport, just like a wizard’s duel, and we play it like it is, because we want to win. That’s what games and duels are about in the end - _winning._

“Besides, our brand of honor is different from everyone else’s. In Slytherin, we believe in deep-seated loyalty to our friends and that includes our housemates. Let no one ever say we have no emotion when it gets down to it. So when we play to win, whatever it takes, we _are_ behaving honorably - we are defending our Slytherin house and its honor, because that’s what we’re all about.”

That was a different picture from the image of cunning and real friends the Sorting Hat had talked about that Harry had pictured during the opening song. With his previous prejudice, cunning and “real friendship” had sounded like almost menacing traits. But were they always? Deep-seated loyalty and emotion toward friends, for example, was a very good thing - and it did sometimes lead to doing whatever it took to succeed. That was a Slytherin quality. Doing whatever it took to succeed - in other words, cunning and being tricky - also sometimes went hand in hand with leadership and ambition, or with natural competitions like sports and duelling.

“We also get respect from our fellow students. Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you have access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like nicking your pencil case.”

Harry smiled again, half a wry smirk. It _did_ sound fun, joking with people and tricking them. Like with the Muggle question - the point wasn’t whether or not you’d actually hurt the person. That was a personal choice that had nothing to do with Slytherin house. The point was tricking the person so that you didn’t _have_ to hurt them.

“But we’re not bad people,” Gemma continued more quietly, reinforcing this. “We’re like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood.”

Despite her tough punk counterculture demeanor, she sounded almost sorrowful for a moment, and quiet flicked across a few Slytherin faces. It must hurt, Harry realized, being despised by the rest of the school just for being what you were. A sense of indignation rose within him. Surely they could prove the stereotypes wrong?

“For instance,” Gemma continued, staunchly defending her house, “we Slytherins look after our own - which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met, Ravenclaws are famous for clambering all over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you’ll be glad you’ve got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. As far as we’re concerned, once you’ve become a snake, you’re one of ours - one of the elite.

“Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? The seeds of greatness. You’ve been chosen by this house because you’ve got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. All right, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might think are not destined for anything special. Well, keep that to yourself,” she added fiercely. “If the Sorting Hat put them in here, there’s something great about them, and don’t you forget it.”

There was something comforting about it - about already being accepted, sheltered, and seen as great by his house mates simply for entering a house. In a way, he _was_ glad he now had the Slytherins on his side in all cases. And as power mattered a lot to them, they were probably wicked at mastering practical things like spells and potions. He would have to ask Gemma about that.

“And talking of people who aren’t destined for greatness, I haven’t mentioned the Gryffindors,” Gemma added smugly. More smirks. Harry glanced over at Ron’s table, the table he had almost joined. “Now, a lot of people say that Slytherins and Gryffindors represent two sides of the same coin. Personally, I think Gryffindors are nothing more than wannabe Slytherins. Mind you, some people say that Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin prized the same kinds of students, so perhaps we are more similar than we like to think. But that doesn’t mean that we cozy up with the Gryffindors. They like beating us only slightly less than we like beating them.”

It sounded almost playful - competition at Hogwarts was playful, fun, for Slytherins, which was why their house pride was so high. Two sides of the same coin. That made Harry feel even better. Ron and he had just been housed as opposites of the same kinds of students. He supposed he could still be friends with Ron. Surely the Weasleys could handle a little ribbing, teasing, and healthy house competition?

“A few more things you might need to know: Our head of house is Professor Nathaniel Colburn. He’s the Potions teacher, but he knows a lot about Defense too and he’s actually been vying for the position for years. _Don’t_ mention it to him; he gets really bad-tempered. He can be really strict, harsh, and severe as an instructor, kind of intimidating to approach, but he is nicer in classes to his Slytherins. He cuts us a bit of a break, I think in part because no one else does and he has a healthy amount of house pride.”

Professor Colburn up at the High Table looked a lot like Snape: pale skin, aquiline features, and a mop of greasy black hair. But he was taller, more sweeping, older, more mature, his jawline was different, and he was… different in some other indefinable way. More dark, quiet, and serious.

It happened very suddenly. Colburn looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead. He clapped a hand to his forehead, wincing, but none of the Slytherins noticed because Gemma Farley was still talking. When Harry looked up, Colburn had gone back to his conversation with Quirrell and he didn’t look at Harry again. What could that have been? He didn’t think Colburn would harm a Slytherin or have evil intentions, and the only thing Harry had been looking at besides Colburn was the back of Quirrell’s turban.

“Our house ghost is the Bloody Baron,” Gemma was now saying. Sitting nearby, next to Malfoy and his gang, was the silent ghost of a gaunt, staring, blood-stained man in chains. “If you get on the right side of him he’ll sometimes agree to frighten people for you. Peeves, the resident Poltergeist, won’t bother Slytherins either, because he’s terrified of the Baron. Just don’t ask the Baron how he got blood-stained; he doesn’t like it.

“The password to the common room changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the notice board. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries.

“And… yes, I think that’s it. That’s my speech.”

She smiled and bowed her head half-jokingly as everyone applauded politely.

“Now,” she said, “you’ll all go around in a circle and introduce yourselves. Just names, please. First the girls, then the boys.”

Harry finished off with a warm slice of apple pie with vanilla ice cream, nice and cozy and homey, during the introductions. He was now curious, his mood much improved.

“My name is Daphne Greengrass,” said the pretty blonde, green-eyed girl in a friendly way.

“Millicent Bulstrode,” said the plump, heavily-jowled girl, smirking.

“Pansy Parkinson,” said the pug-faced girl in a distinctly smug voice.

“My name is Tracey Davis,” said a very quiet, thin, cautious brunette girl who might in fact be a Muggleborn.

“And now the boys,” said Gemma, smiling.

“Draco Malfoy.” Malfoy leaned back and smirked.

“Tom Riddle,” said Riddle with a small, quiet, strange smile that was both charming and a little spine chilling. His dark eyes were watching and drinking everything, sharp; he was listening hard. Unlike Tracey, Riddle did not seem afraid in the slightest.

“Severus Snape,” said Snape clinically, neutral to introductions.

“Vincent Crabbe,” said one of the massive, trollish boys.

“Gregory Goyle,” said the other.

“My name is Blaise Zabini,” said the handsome, dark-haired Italian boy with a sharp-edged, vicious smirk.

“Theodore Nott,” said the curly brown-haired boy with glasses, quietly and matter of factly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. Like Riddle, but in a different way, he did not seem afraid or nervous. “I prefer Theo.”

And at last they came to Harry. Everyone looked curious. “Shockingly,” said Harry quietly, smirking, now more at his ease, “my name is Harry Potter.”

His wry humor was awarded with some chuckles.

“And that’s it!” said Gemma cheerfully. “All I have left to do is to lead you to the commons and dormitories after the feast and the announcements.”

Speaking of which…

The desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

“Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor table - but interestingly, not the Slytherin table. Perhaps Slytherins were simply better at not getting caught. Boldness did sound like it would lead to rather more attempting to be reckless and show off, which was not a problem in itself if it didn’t lead to people spotting you, Harry thought clinically, his expression still stoical and quiet.

“I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. 

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Almost nobody laughed.

“Why aren’t we allowed there?” Riddle could be heard to ask, sounding amused and distinctly curious.

“I’m not sure…” Gemma was frowning. “It’s odd, because he usually tells us why we’re not allowed to go somewhere. The forest is full of big magical things that can kill you, for example. But he’s… not giving a reason for this one. I genuinely didn’t even know this announcement was being made.”

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snake-like, into words.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

And the school bellowed:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they’re bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we’ve forgot,_

_Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Harry and a few other Slytherins rolled their eyes and waited in either distaste (Malfoy) or silent exasperation (Harry) for the Weasley twins to finish. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

The Slytherin first years followed Gemma through the crowds, out into the Great Hall, but instead of going up the marble staircase, they went down a series of underground steps farther and farther into the cool dungeons. It was very dark down here, with only the flaming, flickering torches on the walls lighting the way. Water dripped quietly somewhere as they traversed stone corridors. 

“Gemma,” said Harry, hurrying to keep up with her, “are there any Slytherin groups for getting ahead together on spells and potions? I just assumed, since Slytherins are all about being the best, and all about brotherhood and loyalty…”

“I’d also be interested in something like that,” said Riddle thoughtfully, unexpected.

“Hm. I could start something, if you’d like,” said Gemma, interested. “Slytherins are all about practicality and power.”

“Thanks,” said Harry, and he obediently fell behind again.

“Teacher’s pet,” Malfoy muttered.

“Am I still a teacher’s pet if I turn out a stronger wizard than you?” Harry asked, smirking, and Blaise and Theo also seemed amused.

“Here are the dungeons,” said Gemma, smirking, as they passed countless dark rooms complete with hanging black chains and manacles. “Nice aesthetic, also good for things like torturing your enemies or a really wild party.”

The Slytherins chuckled.

Gemma finally stopped before a blank stretch of wall - useful for hiding, because no one would think it was any different from any other stretch of wall. “Imperium,” said Gemma, and the stone wall slid aside to allow them entry. “The Latin word for power,” she added back over her shoulder, “and also one letter away from a really sketchy spell. That’s this fortnight’s password. Again, if you forget: on the notice board.”

Harry and the other first years entered the common room of Slytherin Dungeon. 

It was a long, low, underground dungeon-like room. Round, greenish lamps hung from the ceiling on chains. A fire crackled under an elaborately carved mantel piece ahead of them. Carved chairs were set around it. But the fireplace only took up one very small section of the long common room.

Everything seemed bathed in a greenish, glowing light, which Harry realized was coming from the windows looking out into the Black lake. It was oddly soothing, quiet. The carved chairs were green. There were also lots of low-backed, black or green button-tufted, leather sofas. There were dark wood cupboards, and there seemed to be a general skull theme. The walls were covered with tapestries depicting the adventures of famous medieval Slytherins. A massive, intricate chess set was on a dark wood table. Melting wax candles burned in holders.

Harry walked to the windows and looked out into the Black Lake, at the bottom of which the common room would be dark even in the daytime. Hence the lamps, he supposed. The bottom of the lake was dark pebble and shell, the water looked cold and grey, and Harry saw a little water demon gnashing its teeth and snarling its claws from a bit of seaweed near Harry’s foot. He looked up, and gasped.

A mermaid was floating there before him, but not a mermaid like the ones from Disney movies. She was taller and more majestic even than an adult, had a long silvery tail, had green hair like seaweed and yellow eyes. She tilted her head at him, nodded, and swam back into the depths of the lake.

“Cool…” said one of the Slytherins behind him, and they all seemed awed.

Harry looked up at a low, whale-like sound and saw a massive squid the size of a small building whooshing peacefully on by above his head in the greenish gloom and the water.

“As awesome as the shipwreck in a dungeon aura is,” said Gemma at last, amused, “the dormitories are this way.”

They followed Gemma through a far door and down two corridors: one for boys and one for girls. Through a door with a plaque labeled “First Years,” the Slytherin boys found their beds at last, in a big round room with windows and an attached bathroom. Eight four poster beds were scattered throughout the room, their things already brought up and set next to each bed.

The beds had green silk hangings, and the bedspreads were green silk embroidered with silver thread. More medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins covered these walls, and silver lanterns hung from the ceiling, throwing very faint, soft light into the otherwise pitch blackness - perfect for sleeping. Through the windows were more greenish, glowing lake scenes.

Too tired to talk much, the Slytherin boys pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed. The lake water lapping against the windows relaxed Harry and lulled him to sleep, keeping him peaceful and calm the entire dark, blissful night long.


End file.
